


Never to Forget

by EisForElephant



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:32:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4171284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EisForElephant/pseuds/EisForElephant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Wizarding World is not what is seems.<br/>Seriously AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the scene in Deathly Hallows where Bellatrix tortures Hermione.

Chapter 1  
Bellatrix smiled in satisfaction as the muggleborn kneeled before her screeched in agonising pain, sweat pouring and face twisted and disfigured.

She flicked her wrist deciding she had enough of this particular curse and skimmed her brilliant mind in search of something else, grinning happily when a particularly gruesome spell came in mind.

It was created by a dark wizard centuries ago, prejudiced against muggleborns after his wife had been attacked by a gang of muggle men. Defenseless, having dropped her want during the skirmish, she was beaten and raped. It was not until two days later that her mangled corpse was discovered.

The spell was basically a play on derogatory term ‘mudblood’. When the spell hit the intended target, if he or she was a muggleborn, their skin would sizzle and burn as their ‘dirty’ blood bubbled out through their pores until there was nothing left.

Bellatrix, unlike the wizard who had created the spell had nothing against muggleborns. She did however have something against the light side and as Granger was with the light she saw no harm in using the spell.  
Glaring at the trembling figure beneath her toes she flicked her wrist harshly hissing the incantation, ‘moodvludius tarturas!’

The spell, a severe navy blue hit Granger directly in the chest and Bellatrix waiting for the effects to take place. After a few seconds went by and the girl was still merely trembling Bella angrily repeated the incantation.  
‘Why is it not working?’ she asks in confusion turning questioningly to her brother-in-law Lucius who also looked perplexed, ‘Am I doing it wrong?’

‘Of course you’re not doing it wrong Bella, you never get a spell wrong not since before Hogwarts’, Narcissa interjects quickly her delicate brow wrinkled as she too was confused.

‘If you’re not doing it wrong Aunt Bella, then there’s only one reason why the spell would not work’, a soft drawling voice carries from across the room.

Bella turns to her young nephew who up till now had been silently watching as she tortured information from out of his school mate albeit not a favoured one as the girl was always besting him in class.

‘And what reason would that be?’ she asks her eyes catching those of her nephew. 

Interestingly enough it was Draco out of all of them that had inherited the Black’s signature eye colour, Cousin’s Sirius and Regulas had them too but neither she nor her sisters did. Andromeda’s and Bella’s were brown like their mother’s had been and Narcissa’s were blue like their maternal grandfather, Draco a Black through his mother had the glaringly stormy grey eyes of her ancestors. It was true that Lucius also had grey eyes but his were a lighter almost silvery colour like sickles. Those eyes were currently lit up with surprise and shock.

‘Well she cannot be muggleborn can she? Not if the spell doesn’t work.’

Bella stood silently letting the revelation sink in, how could she Bellatrix Le’ Strange formally Black the smartest witch to enter Hogwarts in over a century have missed that loop. A stuttering stumbling voice interrupts Bella’s self-titration.

‘You’re wrong’, Granger says her voice husky after the intense screaming session, ‘I am muggleborn, a witch born from two non-magical parents with a magical relative somewhere in the distant past. I am a textbook muggleborn and I am intensely proud of it!’

Bella watched as the witch ranted her voice steadily raising with every word until exhausted she once again collapses on the sterile-white, cold marble floors of Malfoy Manor. She turns back to her favoured nephew who is sporting an amused smirk, letting her know that the girl was always so passionate.

She is slightly shocked though that Granger knew that muggleborns were descended from a magical source. It is a forgotten fact amongst many halfbloods, muggleborns and a few purebloods that a witch or wizard cannot just appear. Magic must have had a beginning a muggleborn witch or wizard is Magic’s way of helping cleanse the wizarding world of genetic diseases and squibs, of bringing new blood into the fold so to speak. However, this blood while fresh carried the remnants of a long deceased relative that had been magical, most likely a squib.

It was why their Lord did not want muggleborns killed or muggles for that matter, one of his proposals was to introduce muggleborns into the magical world as soon as they were born. To take them from their muggle families (who would be mercifully obliviated of memories of their child) and have them fostered by families within the magical community. Many muggleborns, unknown to them, could be heirs or heiresses’ of long-dead Families with titles, vaults of gold and properties left to rot. 

The Dark Lord wanted muggleborns to be educated in everything they needed to know about the magical world, he wanted them to learn and respect wizarding holidays that had been banned so as to accommodate muggleborns and their respective parents who were uncomfortable with ‘pagan’ practices that went against their own. He wanted to raise the standard of education in Hogwarts which had fallen drastically due to the limited classes available as other options were deemed to upsetting for muggleborns or too expensive. Of course Hogwarts would have no money seeing as they paid tuition for all the muggleborns and a majority of other students.

Their Lord knew first-hand how disastrous lack of knowledge was to a person, as part of his inner circle Bella was privy to knowledge others were not. Their Lord was the product of a Squib and a Muggle. His mother had lured his father to her not with natural charm but with a love potion (for whilst Squibs did not have enough magic to practice it through spells and incantations they had enough to be successful at Potions e.g. Marcus Billings *created Wolfsbane Potion). 

Believing that her husband truly loved her Lord Slytherin’s mother stopped giving him the potion when she was into her sixth month of pregnancy. However, instead of staying and accepting his responsibilities as their Lord’s father, he left his mother pregnant and alone. Merope Gaunt was unable to keep herself housed or fed properly after her husband had left her and by the time she felt herself go into labour the only fat on her body was her bulging stomach.

Left with no other choice, Merope had to beg her way into a local hovel/orphanage where within hours Lord Slytherin was born. Merope, as a Squib had magic though not an awful lot of it, however she could sense the magic in her child and chose to die during labour so as to give her son a better life as a Wizard then the Muggle one he would have had, had she chosen to fight for her life by tugging at his magical essence.

Whilst her intentions were noble, life at the muggle orphanage was hell on a wizarding child who showed differences especially during such superstitious times. The Dark Lord grew up mistreated and unloved, filled with hatred towards muggles, towards everyone. Upon arriving at Hogwarts, he was unsurprisingly sorted into Slytherin. However, lacking the proper manners and etiquette he alienated his housemates and so was once again an outcast. Had he been educated in their ways he would have made steadfast and loyal friends very quickly as it happened he was not and as so continued to suffer. He turned to the Dark Arts to ease his suffering and whilst this was a noble feat he was drawn in to quickly and soon began to show the first symptoms of overuse unfortunately they were to minimal to be noticed by disinterested housemates.

It was not until his sixth year when feeling of hate and bloodthirstiness drove him to open the Chamber of Secrets and summon the Basilisk that someone within his house began to notice his detoriation. When the Basilisk killed a muggleborn in the school, this housemate decided it was time to intervene.

Abraxas Malfoy was at the time Heir Malfoy and though he had been initially shocked by Tom Riddle’s manners he had begun to notice him when he rose to fame within the school as a genius with Magic, the most intellectual boy to ever grace the hallways. He knew Tom was dabbling in the Dark Arts but did not notice how seriously until the incident with the dead muggleborn Myrtle it was then he decided to sponsor Riddle and took the boy under his wing.

He invited him to Malfoy Manor for the summer- unknowingly halting Tom’s plans to kill his muggle relatives- where he proceeded to teach Tom everything he needed to know about wizarding culture and how to properly handle to Dark Arts because even though their Lord was a Dark wizard, Dark magic was still chaotic and hard to control quickly even if you were a genius.

Towards the end of the summer after Tom Riddle had again unsurprisingly received his Head Boy badge Abraxas Malfoy took Riddle to Gringotts for an inheritance test whereby he learnt that Tom was the last Heir of Slytherin and therefore entitled to a Lordship, properties and money beyond his wildest imagination. The Dark Lord never forgot the kindness his first and best friend showed him and they remained friends until Abraxas’ poisoning at the Lights hands nearly twenty years ago. In fact unknown to most Lucius was the Dark Lord’s Godson. 

The Light had caused many of them pain. They claimed those who had an affinity towards Grey or Dark Magic were evil and that their aims were for the extermination of muggles and muggleborns prejudicing them against us. All of them had something against the Light, the Dark Lord against their leader Dumbledore who let his treatment at the muggle orphanage continue despite knowing what transpired there, Lucius for poisoning his father only because it was known how close he was to Lord Slytherin and how deeply he supported his views and political ideals, Death-Eaters and other Grey & Dark Witches and Wizards for turning the wizarding world against them.

Bella hated the Light the most. As a young witch she had been deeply passionate about Lord Slytherin’s political campaign, after she finished school she was quick to join his forces lending a hand where ever she could, due to her eagerness and intelligence she quickly rose up the ranks. It was amongst the Dark Lord’s campaign for wizarding freedom that Bellatrix met her future husband Lord Rodulphos Le’Strange. Whilst she had been well acquainted with his brother Rabastion as they had been in the same year at Hogwarts, Roddey was six years her senior and so apart from seeing each other formally at parties they had never properly met or spoken for that matter. 

They hit it off right away to the surprise of many since with their similar personalities Roddy’s brother Rabastion seemed more like her type. Bella was bright, vivacious and bold, with a mass of ebony curls and eyes the colour of the midnight sky, the type of person who draws people to her like honey and bees. Roddy was the complete opposite with cool blue eyes and a head full of golden brown hair, he was calm where Bella was bold, quiet where she was loud. However, they do say that opposites attract.

Within a year they were married and within two they were officially ingrained as part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle having earned his friendship and his trust. Less than six months after that Bellatrix was delighted to learn she was pregnant and as was her younger sister Narcissa who by that time had married Lucius and they had been happy newlyweds for over a year. Lucius and Roddy were delighted as were extended family and the Dark Lord at the arrival of more beloved magical children. A few months into their pregnancies Bellatrix learned that she was having a little girl and Narcissa a boy their due dates days within each other in December.

It was in her seventh month of pregnancy that it happened, it was not a secret to the Light that Bella was in the Dark Lords Inner Circle. Whilst at home alone resting, Roddy at the offices and her sister resting in her own home, Dumbledore’s forces were somehow able to bypass the house’s protective wards where a slumbering Bellatrix was caught off-guard by a silent stunner.

Bella never expected to wake up ever again, she expected them to kill her but apparently they would rather teach her a lesson instead because when she woke up she was at home in her bed with her hand clenched tightly by a sleeping and exhausting looking Roddy. The first thing she noticed was that she could no longer feel her daughters magical signature, the lack of baby bump came second and then Bella began to sob. As a mother she knew the fact that she could no longer feel her child’s signature meant that the baby was dead. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle hugging the empty space as she sobbed the bed shaking with the intensity of her sorrow. 

By wrapping her arms around herself she had let go of Roddy’s arm and it was for that reason that he was immediately alert and comforting her. Between her sobs he explained softy that the Dark Lord had sensed the collapsed wards that they had come as fast as they could. That when they got there they found her in a pool of her own blood her stomach a torn mess and their daughter nowhere to be seen. Due to the fact that Rodulphus had magical blood he like Bella could form a magical bond with their child even whilst she was in the womb and it was due to that connection that Roddey knew that she was dead. 

And so followed the darkest months of Bellatrix Le’Strange’s life, the time in which she earned her sadistic manic reputation. Furious and mad with grief she was determined to discover who had killed her child, the first action she had taken was a little visit to the Longbottom’s a Grey family that had unfortunately aligned themselves with Dumbledore’s forces because Lady Alicia’s best friend was the muggleborn Lady Potter and the Dark Lord wanted to exterminate all muggleborns. It wasn’t like Lord Franklin hadn’t been brought up right he should have been aware of the truth.

The Longbottom’s had recently announced the birth of their son Neville and a deranged Bellatrix could think of no better punishment then the death of the boy- an eye for an eye, a child for a child- and a grief-stricken Rodulphus had joined her against their Lord’s orders. Their magic sizzling with their turmoil of emotions they stormed Longbottom’s Manor and tortured the Longbottom’s until their minds had retracted to protect themselves and they were nothing but vegetables.

Satisfied they roamed the Manor until the cries of an infant could be heard alerting them to the position of the boy’s nursery. Bella’s steps faltered as she entered the room, whilst she had been in the early stages of her pregnancies she had lovingly designed a nursery for her daughter, now it stood empty and forlorn at their Manor as she couldn’t bear to change it.  
Her daughters’ room had been painted a soft golden orange, the furniture and crib made of white pine the complete opposite of the room before them. Painted a dark forest room the room was accentuated with a dark mahogany changing table, chest of drawers, picture frames and large crib. The crying was coming from the crib and as Bella inched forward she caught sight of the chubby little baby waving his hands and legs for attention.  
Silent tears ran down her face as she took in the thatch of dark brown hair and bright blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, trembling she cautiously leaned in to pick up the flailing baby. As she settled him comfortably in her arms he began to settle and with wide blue eyes baby Neville curiously appraised the new person before him.

‘Let’s keep him’, she whispered hoarsely glancing at her husband who was standing behind her his own eyes glistening at the scene before him, a scene he would never witness between his wife and daughter. 

‘What? Why? Bella he won’t replace her.’ Roddy said mournfully.

‘He won’t but they will come looking for him and then we will get our revenge’, she answered chuckling weakly her desire to kill the boy diminished.

Determined to leave a message that they would never forget Bella went back to the room where the Longbottom’s lay baby Neville still cradled in her arms. She carefully juggled Neville with one arm and grabbed her wand. Muttering the incantation she aimed the spell at the wall and apparated out of the Manor Roddy by her side. The words ‘You took from me, I take from you’ glimmering in their wake.

Just as she had predicted, they came from him. She’d been kneeling before the recliner playing with the boy when she felt the wards shift, she ignored the shouting coming from the corridor, the bangs and clashes as the Manor’s precious artifacts were smashed in rage. Bella was numb to it as she watched the gurgling baby with a smile on her face.

‘Bella’, a low voice called, a voice she recognised as her traitor of a cousin Sirius who despite having an affinity to Dark Magic had joined Dumbledore’s side.

She looked up from the baby and found herself staring at the end of three wands. They belonged to her cousin his friend Lord James Potter and Potter’s wife Lillian, all of them were glaring at her murderously.

‘Oh Hello Cousin dear’

‘Hello what the hell were you thinking Bella! You tortured the Longbottom’s into insanity and kidnapped their baby! Why? Because you couldn’t handle the fact you’d lost your own baby!’

‘Lost!’ Bella’s shrill voice screeched as her head snapped forward and her dark eyes glared manically into her baby cousin’s. 

‘You took her from me! You cowards! You stunned me when I was unaware and ripped her from my stomach! You Monsters!’

Sirius looked down stricken at his cousin, what was she talking about? Dumbledore said that Bellatrix had been driven by grief and jealousy to torture the Longbottom’s and steal their baby after her own baby had been born stillborn.

‘What do you mean?’ Lily’s gentle yet horrified voice asked.

‘You need to leave’, a clam voice by the doorway interrupted.

The three former Gryffindor’s turned in surprise to the figure of Bellatrix’s husband Rodulphos, being the smart wizard he was he took advantage of their distraction and disarmed them.

‘Not until Bella explains what she meant’, Sirius growls annoyed at the loss of his wand.

‘You mean your darling Dumbledore didn’t tell you how he killed our baby because we didn’t agree with his views. How he traumatized my wife by ripping apart her bond with our child. Now get out!’ 

But they didn’t and that day Lord Slytherin gained a few more supporters until Dumbledore interfered that is.  
Bella had never gotten over the incident and instead of scaring her away from the Dark Lord the incident merely made her more loyal as she realized the light were just as ruthless and even crueler in their methods to get what they wanted. When Draco was born in December, Bellatrix couldn’t bear to visit it wasn’t until the spring in April when he was five months old that she did. She fell in love with his angel face, his platinum hair and Black eyes and vowed to protect him in the ways she did not protect his cousin. 

Staring down at the Dumbledore’s little muggleborn lackey Bellatrix was filled with hatred, she was intelligent to be sure but not intelligent to follow the right side despite her lack of education on wizarding culture growing up.

‘Well we can always check can’t we?’ she murmurs.

‘Do that!’ Granger exclaims her eyes glittering with hatred and pride, ‘I’m telling you the truth, and you probably just can’t do the spell’.

Fuelled by the anger that overcame her when the muggleborn had the nerve to say that she could not perform a spell correctly Bellatrix urgently uttered the spell that unknown to her would change her life.

‘statuse reveelus’

The light pink spell hit Granger and slowly but surely an electric blue glow surrounded the girl.

‘Well isn’t that interesting Granger’, Draco drawled a smirk set firmly on his mouth as he grinned down at the irritated Gryffindor at his aunt’s feet.

‘What?’

‘You’re a pureblood Granger.’

It was true. The spell literally was it sounded like it revealed your status depending on what colour you got. You could only be a pureblood if both sets of your grandparents were magical but if you were you glowed a bright electric blue. Other statuses such as muggleborns glowed yellow, half-bloods glowed green, other combinations such as one parent who’s a muggleborn and one parent who’s a half-blood glowed purple etc.

‘Were you lying Granger?’ spat Bellatrix, ‘what with your loyalty I would be surprised if you were related to Dumbledore himself!’

However, when glancing at the girl she looked genuinely shell-shocked.

‘I don’t understand’, she whispered brokenly, ‘my parents are dentists.’

‘Dentists?’ Bellatrix mused, though she was undoubtedly an intelligent witch Bella had not taken Muggle Studies.

‘They heal Teeth’, answered Draco

When everyone looked at him in surprise a blush rose to his porcelain coloured face.

‘What? Why are you staring at me? I heard her explaining it once.’

‘Interesting’, says Lucius staring pitifully at Hermione, ‘It seems even the poor girl does not know where she truly comes from’

Looking at the people in the room it seemed that even Cissy, Draco, Roddey and Rabastion felt sorry for the girl. Wanting them to stop and remember that the girl did not deserve their pity that pureblood or not she was the enemy working for Dumbledore she made a quick decision.

‘Accio Family Tree Potion’

The Family Tree Potion was similar to Gringotts Inheritance Tests in that they told you who you were related to but unlike the inheritance test they did not go beyond great grandparents and did not go into the details Gringotts did with family, money, vaults etc.

The little green potion bottle quickly whizzed into Bella’s hands. After she placed it carefully in the pocket of dress robes she quickly summoned a peace of parchment and a dagger. She did not bother to note the curious expressions on the faces of her family as she worked. Once she had all that she needed gathered she knelt down by the girl and forcibly grabbed her hand. The girl struggled for a moment before realising due to exhaustion and pain that escape was futile.

A bored expression on her face, Bella grabbed the dagger she summed and pricked the muggleborns finger. Setting down the dagger she reached for the bottle in her pocket not letting go of the girls bleeding palm and uncorked it with her mouth. Once opened she poured one drop onto the girl’s blood and set it on the ground beside the dagger streaked with blood. Grabbing the piece of parchment she placed Granger’s bloody-potiony hand against it. Withdrawing the hand she watched as the page shimmered and the blood disappeared.  
Knowing that it would take a minute or two she healed the girls hand so it would stop dripping blood on the floor before turning back to the parchment. She noted that it was finished and without further examining it handed it to Lucius.

‘There you go now you know where she belongs so can we please get back to getting information!’

But Lucius was not listening he was staring dumbfounded at the parchment, wordlessly he handing it to Roddy who was also mesmerised by the paper.

‘What is it?’ Bella asked impatiently ‘Don’t tell me I was right and she is Dumbledore’s spawn after all.’

Roddey was no longer staring at the parchment but at the girl. At her long riotous curls that she inherited from her mother, the tawny-golden brown colour from her father. Her pale skin and freckled nose, her high cheekbones and her eyes shining with a familiar fire.

It was only the eyes that didn’t make sense he thought as his brother grabbed the parchment impatiently. His eyes were a pale blue and Bella’s almost black yet the girls were the same colour as her hair he mused as his brother gasped in surprise. The girl seemed to sense him looking at her as she watched back in confusion unknowing. So entranced was he that he didn’t notice his wife getting angrier with every second or the parchment being passed to his nephew and sister-in-law who were also shocked into silence.

‘What is going in Roddy? Why are you staring?’ Bella squawked in frustration, having had enough of the silence she angrily stomped to her nephew and ripped the wretched parchment from his frozen hands.

Scowling fiercely she glanced down desperate to see what the big deal was? Why everyone was acting like a zombie. And then suddenly and without prompt Bellatrix Le’Strange fell unconscious for above the neat scrip that read Hermione were the names Bellatrix Delphina Black & Rodulphus Maximus Le’Strange.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hermione Granger had always been a lonely girl. The product of two successful dentists who both ran their own private practices Hermione was raised by nannies whose biggest priorities were their pay checks rather than the welfare of their little charge, and so the poor girl had to rely on herself for entertainment. 

The house she was raised in was large and grand, much too large for a family of three, but her father’s family had come from money and he had inherited the mansion- because really that was what it was- after their deaths. Apart from her parents and her nanny the only other people Hermione encountered in her daily life was the cleaning staff and cook her family hired as they themselves had little time for their daughter let alone cleaning and cooking.

When Hermione reached the age where she should be going to school it was decided that she would be home-schooled instead, and so naturally the Grangers hired a tutor. It would be the kindest thing the Grangers had ever done for their daughter as it was then that Hermione had the pleasure of meeting Helena Andrews.

Helena was a young woman in her early twenties who had just completed an English Literature Degree but was struggling to get a teaching job. She was not particularly tall nor particularly beautiful but her kind and gentle demeanour made up for that and merely made her all the more endearing to her frizzy haired little charge. 

It was with Helena that Hermione learnt what it was like to have someone who cared for her and it was from Helena that Hermione developed her love of books. An avid reader Helena was quick to insist that the Grangers, who had no time for books, update the family library, which had not been touched since the early 1900’s- it seemed that non-readers ran in the family- so that Hermione could be taught a variety of different subjects.

And so Hermione read and read to her hearts content, from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice to Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest-which probably wasn’t all that appropriate for an eight year old- Hermione loved them all. Her parents certainly seemed to appreciate her enthusiasm for literary works as it was another thing they could brag about to their friends, ‘their’ daughter spoke like the well-bred little girl she was and reeked of intelligence beyond other children her age. 

It was a sad day when five years after her admittance into the Granger household that Helena was dismissed. She was by the Granger’s opinion no longer needed as Hermione had received a scholarship to St Margaret’s an elite Boarding School for Girls and would be attending in the fall. It was on that day that Hermione learnt what it was like to lose someone she loved and as she sobbed into her teacher’s cardigan the ten-year old decided she would steel herself against loving someone ever again. 

As though sensing her rather rash decision, as only a good parent-figure could, Helena looked down sternly at her charge whispering furiously into her ear, “this does not mean that we will nott see each other anymore, just that we will not be seeing each other as much as we used to’.

As fate would have it, however, Hermione was not destined to enter the fabled halls of St. Margaret’s as on July 31’st exactly two months before her 11th birthday Professor McGonagall visited the Grangers to deliver the most extraordinary, life-changing news a young girl could receive. Hermione Jean Granger was a witch, no not the long-nosed, warty, green skinned, cackling kind, Hermione was a girl who possessed a magical core, a strong one at that according to the Professor. 

The Grangers were horrified, not naturally like most parents that their child was destined for a world where they could not protect them, but horrified like the life they had planned for their daughter was slipping down the drain, no more St Margaret’s, no more dentistry degree at Cambridge, no more showing off to their friends about their ‘perfect’ daughter. As far as they were concerned Hermione had ruined it all by being a witch they didn’t see the ‘extraordinary’ in it at all. They had never hear of Hogwarts, so their friends had probably never heard of Hogwarts, what on earth would they say? Of course they put on a good face in front of the smiling Professor, asking all the right questions, but as soon as the door was shut firmly behind her all hell broke loose

Jean Granger was hysterical, pulling at her long blonde hair in despair, shouting obscenities not at Hermione of course, the Grangers were many things but abusive they were not, but at the world for ‘ruining’ her life. Ian Granger took another approach, he sat on his favourite armchair, an indulgent plump majestic red which according to Hermione looked remarkably like the one in her favourite film Beauty and the Beast, to the unknowing observer he might have seemed relaxed, calm even, but he was as still as a statue, his dark eyes flickering as ideas spun around his head, he desperately wanted to know how he could spin the situation to his advantage.

Hermione, however, used to her parents vain dramatics paid little care, her thoughts were on the whole new wealth of knowledge at her disposal, she’d been getting a little annoyed with reading all the ‘dummy’s guide’ books in her house, having read everything else. Soon enough her parents had stopped with their hysterics realising the fact that no one had heard of ‘Hogwarts’ was a good thing, they could say it was exclusive, only for the best of the best, the gifted, everyone who knew Hermione knew she was that. No one had to know that Hermione was not going to St. Margaret because she was a witch. 

So just a little over two months later, a day after her birthday in fact , on September 1st a happy Hermione stood by her stiff parents next to a bright red steam train. She had thoroughly enjoyed her trip to Diagon Alley and the numerous books she had purchased there she had eagerly devoured over the summer, not once, not twice, too many times to count really. Of the many different things she had learnt she had been very disappointed to discover that the Wizarding World’s attitude towards women was very much like that of Victorian England. Not in the sense that they were unequal to men, but that they were seen as something to be protected, like fragile porcelain dolls, that meant very little women had careers as they were at home being ‘cared for’ by their husbands.

There was also that little problem regarding racist fascists. According to her books, Hermione was a ‘New Blood’ or a ‘Muggleborn’, the first witch in generations of her family to have a magical core strong enough to manifest physically. Somewhere in her genealogy there was a squib or a witch. Some people, however, though that this made them inferior to other wizards and witches, like the Dark Lord Voldemort whose true identity remained secret and who was renowned for his vicious attacks on those he considered ‘Blood Traitors’ for associating with them. 

Hermione wasn’t going to let any of this hinder her, quite the opposite she was determined to use this to her advantage, to set an example so to speak. She would be top of her class, a woman and a ‘New Blood’. Looking around uncomfortably at the open display of affection around her, Hermione turned to her parents who were not looking very comfortable themselves what with their pinched faces and their stuffy clothing and muttered a soft ‘goodbye’ before entering the train her heavy trunk dragged behind her. They had already said their goodbye’s at home, or rather they had lectured her on what her behaviour would be at school. Like her, her parents expected her to be the best.

It wasn’t particularly hard to find an empty carriage as the first few were reserved for the first-years and the majority of them were with their parents determined to spend every minute they could with familiarity. Hermione opened her trunk procuring a hardback book she set on one of the carriage seat, she replaced it with her carefully folded plaid jacket and woolly scarf before slamming it shut once again. Clearing her throat, Hermione reached into her skirt pocked and withdrew her wand, an 11inch Hawthorne wand with a unicorn hair core, she pointed it at her trunk very happy to be trying out her first spell and exclaimed ‘Wingardium Leviosa!’. 

She grinned cheerfully, filled with a unfamiliar warmth she would later surmise as being her magical core straining itself to produce physical reactions, when the large trunk very shakily hovered in the air following the movements of the wand that now commanded it. Directing it to the shelf above her Hermione sat down and adjusted her dark green skirt, it was a new one that she had asked her parents to get after learning that respectable Witches were expected to wear skirts that fell a few inches below the knees, she didn’t want to look to out of place. She opened the book she had extracted from her trunk beforehand ‘Hogwarts; A History’, a book she had read many times over the summer, but one she thoroughly enjoyed. 

It was not until they were an hour away from their destination, according to the ticket anyways, that anyone saw fit to disturb her. Hermione had already changed into her uniform- a long black skirt, a white dress shirt, tie and dark grey jumper- just finished Chapter 26, an interesting thing dictating the history of Hogwarts’s ghosts when two dark haired boys entered the carriage dragging large trunks in behind them. They were both quite short, shorter than her anyways but she was rather tall for her age, and had friendly smiles on their faces. 

“Hello’, the darker headed one said, ‘My name is Harry Potter and this is my brother Neville Longbottom’. He had a calculating look in his eyes as though waiting for a specific reaction.

Hermione desperately wanted to ask how they could be brothers as they looked very little alike and didn’t share a surname but held her tongue as that was not very polite and she suspected he was waiting for the question which was really quite personal.

‘Hello’, she replied politely, ‘My name is Hermione Granger, it is a pleasure to meet you’.

The boy Harry had introduced as Neville looked startled initially before grinning at her. 

‘It’s nice to meet you too Hermione, we expected you to ask how we are brothers actually that’s what everyone else did, we don’t look very much alike.’

They really didn’t apart from their similar heights. Harry was scrawny but not from malnourishment, more like he ate a lot but a spent more time outside then indoors, his tan complexion confirmed her theory. Neville whist also tan, was rather pudgy which suggested that he was not quite as active as Harry. Harry sported messy black hair and bright green eyes that were partially hidden between black rimmed spectacles. Whereas Neville’s chestnut brown hair was cut short and his eyes were so dark they seemed almost black when in reality they were actually a very dark blue.

‘They got annoyed very quickly when we refused to say anything so we decide to leave.’

‘We are all allowed to have our secrets, I am certainly not going to tell you my life-story on the first day’, Hermione said primly.

They stared at her like she was some sort of rare specimen when she really wasn’t. The only really remarkable thing about Hermione, excluding her intelligence of course, was her height. At 5’5 Hermione was taller than most 11 year old girls and boys for that matter. Her hair merely added to that height as unfortunately, according to her anyways, Hermione was in possession of very unruly hair. Though a very pretty golden-brown colour, her hair was so curly it tended to frizz when she brushed it and she had to brush it or it got tangled and she looked like a banshee. Her pale face, courtesy of spending all of her time inside reading, was small, with high cheekbones that sported an abundance of golden freckles, and sported a small nose and mouth. Her honey coloured eyes, though lovely, looked out of place in her face.

All in all, Hermione was the kind of pretty that people didn’t really notice until she was stunning 10 years later.   
She was also not very used to being stared at like she was the best thing since sliced bread.

‘We like you-‘, Harry started.

‘-So we’re going to keep you’, Neville finished. 

Hermione blinked confused, was that how everyone made friends? She didn’t really know as shed never really had any, but she wasn’t going to complain not when it made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

The rest of the train ride included Hermione finishing off her book whilst Harry and Neville, her new friends, sat in the corner and played a game of snap. When they stepped out of the train they were greeted by a large rather ethereal looking castle in the distance. Hermione was drawn out of her stupor when Neville and Harry made to walk towards the horseless carriages the older students were heading towards. She reprimanded them softly, if they had read ‘Hogwarts; A History’ they would know that the first years took the boats across the lake to the Castle. The boys blushed heavily as they scuttled after her and onto a boat, they were the last ones there and therefore had a boat to themselves so there was no need to make introductions with a fourth companion.

Whilst on the boat, her friends suddenly seemed to realise that she was the go-to-girl for information about Hogwarts and demanded to know how they would be sorted as according to them their Gran refused to tell them. Hermione told them of course, happy to tell them all she knew, she desperately wanted to know why they mentioned their gran and not their parents but held her tongue. Within 10 minutes the self-moving boat had reached the other side of the boat and the trio clambered of and followed the others to the large doors of the school where Professor McGonagall was waiting for them. 

Another five minutes went by in which students renewed family rivalries- according to Harry and Neville the rude redhead was Ronald Weasley and the tall blonde (taller than her even!) was Draco Malfoy and their families hadn’t gotten along for generations- and were scared by the ghosts before being ushered into the great hall. Whilst they walked down the aisle of gawking students Hermione thought it was important to tell her new friends all she could remember about the ceiling which was according to her the most astonishing thing in the hall. Whilst her new friends seemed to appreciate it the rude redhead certainly didn’t as she not so subtly muttered ‘know-it-all’ as he passed her. 

Harry and Neville had not liked that at all judging by the way they glared but before they could say anything they were interrupted by McGonagall calling up the first girl to be sorted a ‘Hannah Abbot’ who was quickly ushered towards the Hufflepuff table. Hermione was called up a few names later and confidently made her way up to the stage. As the hat was lowered on her head covering her eyes she couldn’t help thinking that it was a bit excessive making them be sorted in front of the whole school on a stage like it was a performance of some sort.  
“Naughty Naughty Dumbledore’ a raspy voice whispered in her head making her jump, she had forgotten the hat could read her mind and talk and sing, its singing was moderately remarkable and it rhymed.

“Your certainly a surprise, you certainly do not belong in Gryffindor that is for definite’, it mused.

Hermione frowned she had never thought of herself as particularly brave or courageous but she was not a coward either.

“Oh no dear not a coward, but that would break family tradition, perhaps you belong in Slytherin, you have plenty of ambition, but no that will not do you are supposed to be a Muggleborn after all.’

Hermione froze, family tradition, ‘supposed to be’, what was the hat talking about?

“Perhaps Hufflepuff is for you, you are hard-working, no that will not do either you have not really had anyone to be really loyal towards to judge that yet.”

Hermione thought of her new friends Neville and Harry whom she was already pretty protective of she couldn’t really imagine being un-loyal to them, they had glared at that rude Ronald for her hadn’t they?

“Ravenclaw will suit you best, yes yes Rowena would be proud of your thirst for knowledge it practically matches her own, you will do best there I think, flourish more and it was your Father’s House.’

Hermione froze as the Hat shrieked ‘RAVENCLAW!’

She numbly made her way towards the cheering blue and bronze table absentmindedly taking a seat. Her father? Her father was not a wizard, he was a dentist, a normal average dentist, he didn’t come to school here, the Hat must have been confused, yes that was it he was confused. She was brought out of her confused thoughts by McGonagall’s stern voice calling for Neville to be sorted. He made his way to the stage nervously as opposed to the confidence he usually seemed to exude. Within minutes the Hat called out ‘HUFFLEPUFF!’ and Neville descended into the roaring table of black and yellow clad students. Harry took his place on the stool soon after and the hat was quick to exclaim ‘GRYFFINDOR!’

For a minute Hermione wondered if they being in different houses would ruin their tentative friendship but as it hearing her insecure fault the boys simultaneously turned to look at her grinning in that unnerving way that bespoke years of friendship to come and that fuzzy warmth from before filled her up again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: First Year

First year of Hogwarts had not been sunshine and daisies for young Hermione Granger. She stood out-and not in a nice way. Taller than anyone in her year, apart from Draco Malfoy, she alienated most the boys that wanted to be ‘macho’. Her odd looks and bushy hair made her the prime target for those fussy girls whose only ambition, sadly, was to become a rich wizard’s wife someday. Hermione bore it however, and she bore it with grace ass despite all this she had the support and love of friends.

Yes, for the first time in her life she had friends. As the year went by Harry and Neville proved themselves as the most loyal and trustworthy friends a girl could have. Hermione was sure of this despite never having had friends before to compare with. In her opinion there could be no finer friends. When her jealous fellow Ravenclaw’s refused to be nice to her they were there to comfort her. When stupid pureblood girls called her ugly, Neville and Harry were always there to reassure her that she was far from it. They made her feel warm and fuzzy all the time and for that Hermione would always adore them.

Oddly enough, her friendship with the boys garnered even more hatred towards her, particularly from those aforementioned mean jealous girls. As far as they were concerned Hermione the ‘New Blood’- or ‘Mudblood’ as not all of them were so polite-was honing in on their territory. 

Of course being new to the Wizarding world, Hermione could not understand the heated looks she received from all the girls in her year, until she absentmindedly mentioned it to the boys. Oddly enough it was Neville who bashfully and red-faced explained the situation to her.

‘Well Longbottom and Potter are two of the oldest wizarding families, we achieved the ‘Most Noble and Most Ancient’ status earlier than even the Abbots and the Nott’s did.’

When Hermione continued to look confused, Harry decided it was time to cut in and save Neville any further embarrassment.

‘It means were rich Mione’, he said bluntly, ‘Rich and titled every society witches dream’.

Hermione could have saved herself years of pain and hatred if she had ignored the boys from then on, but she would never do that. For the first time since her dear teacher had left her, Hermione was loved, she was ‘Mione’, and to a girl who had never ever had an affectionate name given to her before this was a prize worth more than a little teasing.

Though the boys had never been unwavering in their friendship and affection since that first day on the train ride to Hogwarts. Hermione remained. At first, leery. She wanted to trust the boys, but a life full of disappointments meant that her trust was not easily earned. Their eternal friendship was, however quickly cemented when they utterly humiliated the red-headed prat Ronald Weasley.

Since their first day, the Weasley boy had made his dislike of Hermione abundantly clear to all. She was a ‘know-it-all’ a ‘usurper’ even. He thought it was his prerogative that Harry and Neville be his best-friends. It had been his chief aim and goal for years, the youngest of six children Ron was not exactly wealthy and not nearly as clever or likeable as his elder brothers were. 

William Weasley (the heir) technically didn’t have to work as he would inherit the Weasley fortune (which though lacking in abundance was substantial enough), had been head-boy in school and had gone on to study to be a Curse-Breaker. He completed a 10 year course in 4 and was currently engaged to Nymphadora Tonks, a metamorphmagus and auror prodigy, who was related to the notorious Black family.

Charles Weasley, though not as clever as his elder brother, was very active, Captain of Gryffindor’s Quidditch Team, in a way Ronald could never hope to be. He wasn’t naturally clever like his brother, but he worked hard and achieved good grades. His interest lay in animals, particularly Dragons, and he was currently training to become a dragon handler which although dangerous paid extremely well so really he was set for life. 

Percival, the third Weasley brother, was well-known as the first ever Slytherin Weasley, after generations of Gryffindor’s his sorting had come as a surprise. It became evident though that he had been sorted where he belonged, he was extremely clever, that combined with his sly nature and ambitions for the future guaranteed him a high position in the ministry in the future. Though he had yet to even do his OWLS everyone expected nothing but the best.

Fredrick and George, the Weasley Twins, did not come across as awfully intelligent, but that was just their nature. For all they locked jokes and pranks, the boys were determined and hardworking, their pranks were always well thought out and cleverly put together. They planned on opening a joke shop some day and very few people doubted their success. Unlike Ronald they were well-liked.

Ronald was supposed to be a girl, and his mother resented him for not being so having had a difficult birth she was unable to have more children after him. Hermione was confused as to why she would want to have six children let alone more, since Neville and Harry explained that the Weasley though an old family were not exactly wealthy. As the youngest he never received anything new and as a result was very materialistic, his ambition in life was to be rich, and if he couldn’t be that than to have rich friends that could supplement the lifestyle he so desperate wanted.

According to Ronald, Hermione had ruined any chances he had to gain those much wanted friendships. Which was why on Halloween he made the grave mistake of insulting her in front of her self-proclaimed protectors. Hermione was a loving girl starved of affection, when she saw he was struggling with his charms work she kindly offered her help despite his hostile attitude towards her. 

Ronald did not appreciate the help. He was annoyed that a stupid ‘New Blood’ a bloody girl had showed him up, he didn’t see it as help at all but another sign of his inferiority, and he had told her so, quite loudly, in not so nice terms.

Hermione, dreadfully shocked that anyone could be so rude had ran out of the classroom and by the time the Halloween Feast was spread out in the Great Hall, had yet to be seen. Harry and Neville were as any good friend would be frantic with worry, according to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patel Hermione had been crying when she ran out of the room and they couldn’t have that at all. 

To make matters worse, a troll was in the castle, a big, fat smelly troll, who liked to eat human flesh a much forgotten fact by many. The boys eventually located Hermione saving her from the evil clutches of the flesh eating troll, to find her concern being instead of on herself, on the stupid Slytherin’s. 

‘What do you mean Dumbledore said to go to our dormitories?’ she questioned.

‘Does he not realise the Slytherin Common Room is in the Dungeon? The Dungeon the bloody troll was supposed to be in?’

Harry and Neville admitted it was odd, but were much too focused on their friends state to ponder on it much. They had already had a few words with Ronald after Hermione had fled, but seeing as their pseudo-sister had nearly been killed due to his actions it seemed as though further action would need to be taken. 

The next morning, Hermione had taken note of how anxious her boys seemed. Their eyes full of anticipation throughout breakfast, and it wasn’t until a bright red envelope came flying into the Great Hall that their tension was alleviated. 

The Owl, dropped the letter in front of the Weasley Prat, and Hermione couldn’t help but observe that the letter seemed to match his hair. The Prat paled dramatically, as he stared down at the scarlet envelope. He watched in horror as the thing rose in the air and started to screech at him.

‘RONALD WEASLEY, HOW DARE YOU-HOW DARE YOU CALL A NEW BLOOD THAT AWEFUL AWEFUL WORD! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? HAVE YOU NO REGARD FOR THE REPUTATION OF OUR FAMILY? YOUR BROTHERS HAVE NEVER GIVEN ME THIS MUCH TROUBLE, NEVER! YOU SHOULD FOLLOW IN THEIR EXAMPLE! OH-WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE BEEN A GIRL? A GIRL WOULD HAVE BEEN AS MUCH TROUBLE! NOW YOU BEHAVE, IF I HEAR YOU STEPPED ONE TOE OUT OF LINE YOULL BE OUT OF HOGWARTS!’

The letter than turned in Harry’s direction.

‘THANKYOU LORD POTTER FOR MAKING ME AWARE OF THE SITUATION, PLEASE BE SURE TO THANK HEIR LONGBOTTOM TOO, I AM GLAD THAT THERE ARE SO MANY GOOD MATURE BOYS THAT MY SON CAN LOOK UP TO AT HOGWARTS!’

Ronald did not bother to fight with Harry or Neville, and after that incident he seemed to understand Hermione was off limits. In fact he pointedly went out of his way to ignore her. Hermione never doubted her friendship with the boys again.

The rest of the year was decidedly more peaceful. Apart from a somewhat friendly rivalry with the Malfoy Heir regarding the position of top of the class, nothing very noteworthy occurred.

Well nothing that they knew of anyways.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Professor Quirrell

Quirinus Quirrell grew up surrounded by love. An only child, a ‘miracle’ child to elderly parents who had given up hope of ever conceiving. His mother had been a witch and his father was a muggle, but they both accepted and adored one another. All in all Quirrell was happy in his early years. However, this soon changed when he entered the world of Hogwarts.

An intelligent boy he was sorted into Ravenclaw, however, years of being sheltered by overprotective-understandably so-parents meant that whilst academically gifted Quirrell was a delicate boy who had never been particularly active, and timid and nervous having never really talked to children his age before. The feelings of insignificance and worthlessness that the bullying of his fellow peers fostered embittered the poor boy, forging a latent desire to make the world sit up and notice him. 

He immersed himself in literature, the old dusty books that lay unread in the school library. He was determined to be the best wizard he could possibly be, and he certainly excelled academically achieving highly in his OWLS and NEWTS. He learnt about bonds, wizarding protocols and holidays. He became disillusioned with his headmaster the Great Dumbledore, who had advocated the change of Samhain to Halloween, and Yule to Christmas. 

After graduating Hogwarts at 17, Quirrel attended his first political rally held by the increasing popular self-styled Lord Voldemort. He was just curious really, never having really been a blood purist, it would have been hypocritical since he was technically half muggle. He expected talk of blood purity, of the extermination of the ‘New Bloods’, instead he was enlightened.

Voldemort didn’t want to enslave muggles, he wanted to learn from them wary of their abundance of weapons which were just as lethal to wizarding folk as it was to muggles. He wanted to reinstate wizarding culture at Hogwarts, he didn’t believe that replacing Wizarding holidays with Muggle ones helped muggleborns feel better, more at home, he believed it helped them reject the gift that had been bestowed upon them by Magic. 

Quirrell was entranced, a loyal ‘Death Eater’ from that moment on. Inspired by Voldemort’s words he went on to further study the muggle world, their weapons, their culture. What he discovered made him horrified, guns that could rip holes into your body, tanks that could blast your house into smithereens, nuclear bombs that could vaporise a whole city!

He was determined to educate the youth to the dangers the muggle world posed and so he applied for the Muggle Studies Post at Hogwarts. It wasn’t very long until his speeches and talks garnered the attention of the man who had enlightened him-Lord Voldemort, and less than a year after taking the position, Quirrell was invited to dine with his idol. 

Voldemort was a handsome man, who looked to be in his late 20’s. Dark haired, he had a sharp angular face with aristocratic features, high cheekbones and captivating maroon coloured eyes. He spoke passionately about the changes he wished to make in the wizarding world and how Quirrell was helping achieve this dream by alerting the youth to the dangers the muggles posed. They became-friends? And Quirrell was invited to dine frequently with Voldemort and his closest followers. 

Days before Dumbledore killed Voldemort, the man intrusted Quirrell with a ring. It wasn’t very pretty a dark stone set in a chunky gold band. He told Quirrell that if anything was to happen to him, he was to put on the ring. And on the day he received word that his Lord had been killed Quirrell did just that. 

It hurt, it hurt like hell. His body felt as though it was on fire, burning for what felt like years. He clawed desperately at his skin trying to stop the burning, the pain as it grew sharper and sharper centred around his head when suddenly it stopped.

Disorientated, Quirrell rose shakily to his feet, his eyes still shut tight and blearily made his way to his bathroom, upon turning his face to the mirror he promptly froze in shock. He was bald! His thick copperish hair was gone, he was bald! If that wasn’t bad enough the back of his head started to talk to him causing him to start violently.  
‘What is going on?’, he questioned the voice.

‘It is I Quirrell, Voldemort’, the voice answered.

‘What! How? Why?!’

‘Don’t question me, we must start working to gain my body back immediately!’

Quirrell agreed with the voice and after acquiring a bright purple turban to hide the back of his head, he wrote to Dumbledore requesting a sabbatical. What should have been a relatively short break took years. They travelled all over the world exploring every means of magic available, but nothing was viable, nothing worked. Quirrell was sure Magic was punishing his Lord for going against her will-his death. But finally after years of searching, Voldemort discovered the Philosophers Stone. 

Their first attempt to steal the stone was a disaster. Getting into Gringotts without alerting the Goblins was hard enough, but they were not nearly prepared enough, despite their proficiency in magic, for the numerous traps that Flammel had put in place to protect the stone, and by the time they were ready to try again for a second time, Flammel who had been alerted had moved the stone to a securer location. 

He wrote to whoever he thought might know where the stone was, and luckily caught a break. Lucius Malfoy, a fellow Death Eater, and on the Board of directors at Hogwarts, revealed that Dumbledore had sought permission to hide the stone at the school, he hadn’t received it, but he undoubtedly would ignore this order. 

Quirrell knew the only way he could get close to the stone was to go back to teaching. However, upon writing to Dumbledore he discovered his previous post had been given away permanently. The only position open was the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, which according to Voldemort was actually cursed by him. Never the less Quirrell applied for the position and on the 1st of September he was once again on his way to Hogwarts. 

The first person Quirrell, well Voldemort really, took notice of was Neville Longbottom. One of his most loyal followers Bellatrix Le’Strange had been terribly fond of the boy. Surprisingly he was sorted into Hufflepuff. There was nothing wrong with the house, despite it being seen as taking the ‘left-overs’ so to speak, however, both his parents had been Gryffindor’s. Harry Potter was another person he took note of. His parents were dead, supposedly at the hands of Voldemort believe it or not. The boy was promptly sorted into Gryffindor as expected.

It wasn’t until his Ravenclaw and Slytherin First Year class that Quirrell got a good look at Hermione Granger, and he only noticed because once he laid his eyes on her a sharp pain went across his head, his Lord knew her? She looked familiar though he couldn’t remember where he had seen her before. Upon questioning his Lord later in the evening, his curiosity remained at large.

‘For a minute I thought she was someone else that’s all’, the voice hissed.

He was determined to get to the stone, so didn’t dwell too much on Voldemort’s avoidance. He quickly discovered where the stone was being stored, it wasn’t very hard really, why else would Dumbledore tell the students to avoid the third floor? And on top of that be really dramatic about it as well, as though entering the corridor would mean certain death.

He devised a plan to let a troll loose in the school so as to act as a distraction. The plan didn’t work out the way he wanted it to when Voldemort grew furious at him for endangering the lives of all the students. How was he supposed to know trolls had a particular likening for human flesh, that wasn’t in the textbooks! So that window of opportunity was lost.

By the time he did get to the corridor it was only to discover a giant Cerberus was guarding the damn thing! Further investigating revealed that each teacher had been asked to add a precautionary measure so that the stone wasn’t stolen. It was easy to get Professor Snape’s as he was a fellow Death Eater, as was Flitwick and surprisingly enough Sprout. McGonagall had told Snape so he knew about the giant chess set as well. Hagrid, however, was much too loyal to Dumbledore and he couldn’t find anything about subduing a Cerberus in the library.

Thankfully, everyone was aware how easily susceptible to alcohol Hagrid was, so disguised with a dark cloak he was able to get the information out of him in exchange for a dragon egg, which thank god for good connections, because that had not been easy to get a hold of. It was, however, baffling to him that such a huge creature could be soothed by music. 

So as to prevent any students being harmed by a growing violent dragon, Quirrell let Lucius know what was going on so the dragon was removed and coincidently Hagrid was fired and expelled from Hogwarts grounds. Something about how this wasn’t the first time he’d been caught with a dangerous animal which caused the voice at the back of his head to giggle, yes Lord Voldemort giggled. 

By the end of the year the stone was in his possession, Ravenclaw won the house cup, Dumbledore remained unaware, and soon his Lord would return. 

Life was looking up.


End file.
